by S M Mala
‘Shut up Joan!’ I hiss and point to Beth, who’s watching the telly. ‘What are you getting at?’
I look guilty. She looks me up and down then backs off by glancing out the window.
‘I’m not being rude Joan but unless you want to help me with work, then you’re welcome to stay, if not, then can you just go.’
‘Goodbye my lovely, nana will come and see you later,’ Joan says while walking towards Beth.
‘Bye Joanie!’ Beth kisses her grandmother and gives her a big hug.
‘You should call me nana not Joanie. I expect it’s your mother’s influence,’ she says, flashing me a dirty look.
‘Bye bye Joanie,’ I say, holding the door open for her leave. She’s coming close to kiss me then gnashes her jaws.
‘I smell a rat!’ She says then walks out. Today, I think that’s her sign she loves me.
Or I’m in deep shit.
Four
I haven’t heard from Josh since that morning.
That was three weeks ago.
I did hear through others (Joan) that the couple are very happy. I’m delighted for them, really I am.
I’ve spent all these weeks hoping he’d ring but I know he got something out of his system (three times) and managed to ensure I got hurt.
At least I now know he was talking bullshit. Well at least I had sex with someone since the death of my husband and it happened to be his best friend.
Talk about keeping it close!
My mum is taking Beth to Meena’s son’s birthday party. Luke is going to be eleven and it’ll be a big turnout. I told Meena I’m not going and received a half an hour bollocking from her especially now she knows I slept with Josh. She’s forcing me to ‘get out there’ and find someone else.
I’m feeling a bit shit as my period is finishing (yes, I realise unprotected sex on the kitchen surface not only spreads crumbs and STI’s but could also knock you up).
The phone is ringing again.
I move my head and notice it’s five in the afternoon. I’ve been staring at a computer screen for hours and done sod all.
‘Yeah?’ I answer, realising where the call’s from.
‘How’s it going?’ It’s Meena again.
‘Fine. How’s the party?’
‘It’s really good. Why don’t you come round after you’ve finished what you’re doing?’ ‘Sorry can’t, I said I’d meet Lucy tonight, I told you. How are Mum and Beth? Are they enjoying themselves?’
‘They’re fine. You know had you bothered to get your sorry arse out you’d have met this gorgeous bloke Tony.’
‘I’m off men.’
‘I told him all about you?’
‘What did you say? Middle aged widow up for a leg over?’ I say through gritted teeth.
‘Look woman,’ Meena snaps. ‘Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I wasn’t going to tell you but today, when we were shopping we ran into Josh and Meg.’
‘With a car I hope.’
‘Belle, you need to draw a line under whatever you had with him,’ she calmly says. ‘Anyway they looked love up and happy.’
It’s like a sharp axe cutting through me lengthwise.
‘Thanks for that.’ She might be my best friend but sometimes I swear she gets her communication skills from Joan.
‘You had sex with him, he went off on honeymoon, forget about it. It’s all over. He’s a shit!’
‘He used me!’
‘Don’t start. I know you’re upset but move on. You should meet Tony.’
‘I don’t want to. Don’t fix me up with him.’
‘I gave him your phone number,’ she quickly says.’If you can’t help yourself then I’m going to give you a helping hand.’
‘You are just a bloody gem, you are! I doubt if he’ll ring. I’ve got to get ready to meet Lucy-.’ I hesitate before saying the next bit. ‘How did he-.’
‘He,’ she breathes in hard, ‘if you’re talking about Josh, looks stunning. I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I’m the one that’s sorry.’ I hang up.
There’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I’m going to have fun tonight and I intend to sink as much booze as possible, that’s how I’ll get over it.
I meet Lucy and we’re in time for happy hour that actually lasts for two and a half hours. I don’t discuss Josh, as I know Lucy wanted to bag him once and failed dismally but he did have a girlfriend at the time.
We gossip about this and that, bitch about Joan. Lucy has met her a couple of time and is a fan of hers, she thinks she’s absolutely wonderful and this makes me think, in the time I’ve known Lucy, she really isn’t quite all there.
We’re laughing loudly and causing the rest of the boring arseholes to look at us if we were mad women.
We’re drunken women!
I can feel my mobile vibrate and I don’t recognise the number.
‘Hello?’ I hope I don’t sound too plastered.
‘Hi, is that Belle?’ a strange voice asks.
‘Yes ‘tis I.’
‘This is Tony.’ I don’t believe he’s calling me. This is a disaster. I’m going to kill Meena!
‘Hi Tony, sorry I couldn’t meet you at Meena’s party but I was working from home. Did you have a good time?’ Silly question, why would he be phoning me if he did? I wonder if I sound drunk?
‘It was good. I’m meeting a few of my friends tonight and Meena mentioned you might be around for a drink.’ I note his hesitation. ‘Do you want to meet up? We’re going to a club, so I thought you might want to share a couple of cocktails.’
Now, this is a bloody cheeky question. I don’t know who this man is and frankly, I don’t care. But then again…
‘We’re in Westbourne Grove across the other side of town,’ I say, hoping that’ll slightly put his off the scent.
‘I live in Westbourne Grove,’ he says, sounding slightly smug.
Meena is dead. She is deader than dead. I expect she knew this when she readily dished out my phone number.
‘Great, look for two pissed women in a bar.’
I give him the address and he knows of it, telling me it’s his local. Bet Meena took this into account too. I tell Lucy, who flies into the toilet to do her makeup, leaving me on my own for 20 minutes. I can’t be arsed to check my face as I’m sure he’ll go for Lucy or one of the young scantily clad gals scattered around this bar. She returns to the table, looking gorgeous.
‘Belle put some schlap on girl, give yourself a fighting chance,’ she says.
‘Can’t be arsed,’ I reply. ‘Anyway I’m sucking hard on a slippery nipple.’
‘My favourite!’ I hear a voice from behind me.
I turn and there’s a man standing to my side laughing.
‘I’m Tony and I take it you’re Belle?’ I jump up nearly knocking the four cocktails off the table (we lined them up, it was nearing the end of happy hour, you know how it is).
‘Yes hi.’ I shake his hand. He’s very attractive about 5 feet 8 and has that floppy hair I used to really go for when I was a teenager, plus a lovely smile. I can tell he’s a grown up, he has rather cute laughter lines and a pretty hot tan. See, alcohol is a fab thing. ‘Join us!’ I can see Lucy licking her lips as he seems to be with two other guys.
‘Great,’ he says and I know when I’m being eyed up. I quickly check for spillage down the front of my dress.
‘This is Lucy,’ I say and she’s eyeing all three of them up, beaming widely at me. Her evening has perked up and so has her chest just by the way she’s arching her back. ‘How did you know who I was?’ This is a good point. Thank god Joan wasn’t at the party her description would have been astounding.
‘Meena showed me a picture. Would you like another drink?’ He looks down while I peer sheepishly at the cocktails. I wonder what gem Meena produced. I shudder at the thought. Probably something when I was seventeen and two stone lighter!
‘No thanks, we’ve got enough,’ I reply breezily, trying to hide my angst.
Now the evenin
g isn’t going as badly as I expected. He’s a very funny guy and courteous. He’s a divorcee with two kids and they live with their mother in York. He’s an architect. I tell him I tried to do a technical drawing A’ Level but failed, twice. I’m feeling pissed but he seems slightly amused or bemused. Not quite sure.
It’s eleven before I know it. I expect them to all go clubbing but Tony declines the offer and his two friends take Lucy instead. I’m giving my concerned mother look and Tony notices.
‘Don’t worry, she’ll have a good time, they’re not dodgy.’ I smile but my gormless face can’t hide anything. It’s the men I feel sorry for because from the look on Lucy’s face, one or both of them are up for a good time.
‘Sorry but you never know. I better get a cab home,’ I say watching my mate go off.
‘I’ll help you.’ We leave the bar and this is usually the point when the fresh air hits me and I feel more pissed. But on this occasion, there’s no sign of that. Good. I spot some cabs.
‘I don’t live far from here, would you like to come back for coffee?’ he asks and this makes me laugh.
‘For coffee?’ I think that’s really funny. I tell a lie, the air has definitely hit me. He’s laughing too.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asks.
‘If you say ‘for coffee’ with a different pronunciation, it sounds like ‘fuck offee.’ I realise what I’ve said and stop laughing. ‘I think the booze has just hit. I’ll wait for a cab.’ I feel pretty stupid.
‘Come for in for tea then I’ll get you a taxi.’
We get to his place.
‘This is a lovely.’ His home is modern, smart, expensive and very clean.
‘Thank you, I designed it myself,’ he proudly says.
‘The perk of being an architect!’ I sound like an idiot.
‘Would you like something to drink?’ He’s really smiling at me. I must be staggering around like a piss head.
‘Water please.’ I grin like an idiot. I better not make myself too comfortable, I’ll be leaving soon. He brings over a glass and hands it to me.
‘Belle, I think you’re lovely. When Dev mentioned about meeting the merry widow, I didn’t think you’d be so merry!’
I laugh. I was a bit pissed when he turned up. Thankfully I’m now sober.
What’s going on here!
He has lunged at me and his tongue is in my head searching for my fillings and I-.
What the heck!
I can feel one hand on my breast and the other has been manoeuvred over my arse. This is all getting a bit too much. I’ve got to stop it. I push him away.
‘I’m not that sort of girl. And I have a tampon in,’ I announce. I mean, what if he tries to shag me up against the wall there and then, the thing might get lodged in my womb permanently. Well, you never know.
‘I’m not that kind of man and I don’t mind you being on the blob.’
On the blob! Charming!
He’s dragging me up the stairs. I’ve now fallen down and he’s trying to take my clothes off. Suddenly, the top half of my dress is coming down and now he’s trying to remove my strapless bra. I’m stunned.
‘This is a bit fast,’ I say.
‘God, these are lovely,’ he utters and is burying his face between my breasts.
Right, I’m not going to fib, this doesn’t feel awful, other than a wooden stair jarring against my arse. Oh no, his lips are on my tit and I don’t know this man. This is just damn odd and he’s not pushing my buttons.
I stand up and my dress is on the floor. I can see the bedroom from here and he is taking off his top. Shit, he has pushed me up against the wall again. Me think he likes vertical positions.
Oh, he’s undoing his trousers and I push him away. He’s proudly pulling his pants down exposing his bits.
It’s quite… compact.
If this goes any further I can deal with it. I think my tampon might be bigger! More frantic kissing and I’m on the bed. I feel him quickly fumbling around my knickers.
I’ve got to join in so I hold on to his back. I’m really not sure this is the right thing to do. His hands are on my breasts and with a sudden jolt he moves down and I can feel him licking the inside of my thighs. I hope I’m fresh down there. This was so unplanned.
If only I had used my emergency wet wipe.
Tony seems happy enough. He’s holding my thighs back, trying to give me satisfaction, except it’s not working today. I’m not relaxed when I know there’s a string attached.
Calm.
Now he’s sort of licking me like a lollipop. Should I say something?
‘Oh yeah, that’s good,’ lying through my teeth. There’s no chance I’m going to reach the pleasant plateau.
Right, from the handbook, the fake orgasm will have to come in. I groan and sigh then I wait a few moments.
‘Oh yeah, oh, yeah baby, yeah! Right there! Oh god, I’m going to come,’ and I give an award winning performance, flaying around like a wild woman.
He grabs a condom from the side of his bed and he’s fiddling about. I feel my tampon being removed (how embarrassing, I wonder where he puts it?) then something else replaces it.
I can do this.
It’s not really hitting the sides here. After some fumbling, he’s where he wants to be. Frankly, I could take or leave this but my legs go higher and moans come out (these are still not genuine) then he yells out flinging his head. I swear his jaw cracks when he does this which is very off putting.
Thank goodness, he has finished, quickly!
‘Did you enjoy that Elle?’ he pants. I can’t obviously recoil from this quickly so I breathe in hard and try not to flinch at his attempt at post coital motions.
‘Mmh.’ Well, what can I say? Can’t be such a bitch now, can I? ‘Yeah that was good, just what the doctor ordered and my name is Belle.’
‘Oh Belle, yeah that’s right. Good. Want to do it again?’ Crikey, this can’t be real. How do I prevent this? ‘When I get my wind back,’ he pants, which I personally hope is some time next year.
‘Don’t rush, take your time,’ I gently say. I’m sobering up at such a swift speed but all I keep thinking is about Josh and when I had sex with him.
That was good, this is bad.
‘Are you okay?’ Tony is lying next to me, stroking my side.
‘I don’t usually do this sort of thing. I don’t want you to get the wrong impression of me.’ Christ, get me out of here. He’s laughing.
‘I think the fact you’ve made an impression on me is even better.’ He’s now trying to get hold of my breast as I manoeuvre backwards, avoiding his touch. Enough, I’ve got to go.
‘I think I should leave. I really should be in my own bed for when Beth returns.’
‘I’ll come back with you,’ he says. He’s too full on for my liking.
‘That’s not good parenting. Anyway, she’ll be home tomorrow morning.’
‘You said afternoon.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You said your mum would be bringing her back in the afternoon so there’s no excuse but if you want to go home, and then I’ll get you a cab.’
Now that’s really good of him because I’m loving and leaving him. He goes downstairs and makes a phone call as I dress, making sure I’m plugged up with a new tampon.
‘You don’t waste time do you?’ Tony says on his return.
‘Looks bad?’ I know I look guilty but I can’t wait to go.
‘No it’s fine. The cab will be in 45 minutes. Early hours of Sunday morning you know.’
I get my things and walk downstairs. I feel a bit embarrassed now. Sex with two different men in three weeks, I’m going for it large. I look around and stand there not knowing what to say. Shit, this man has seen my intimate parts and I can’t look him in the eye even though he’s looked at my … stop it!
‘Belle, you don’t have to go. Stay for breakfast.’
‘That’s really nice but I’m a mummy and good ones go home and make sure the h
ouse is all sorted for the return of the child, so they, in turn, can undo all the housework.’
What sort of mother am I, picking up a strange man? He’s smiling at me, he probably understands but I expect his exes never had to get her hands mucky unclogging the bog.
‘Belle.’ He kisses me. I wonder if my breath smells, shit, I’m not going to do this again.
Next thing I know, he has sunk to his knees, his head is under my dress and his tongue is working between my legs. I’m holding onto my jacket and bag for dear life as he has totally caught me unawares. I let out another, very convincing, set of groans just so I can escape. He finishes and looks very pleased with himself.
‘Stay for breakfast and have more if you like?’ He’s wiping his mouth with his sleeve. Nice.
Now his arrogance makes him think he’s a good lover, oh lucky, lucky me. The buzzer goes and I kiss him on the cheek then he puts his card in my hand (how wankerish, don’t you think?).
‘Call me Belle, now you know what fun we can have.’ I smile and run to the cab and jump in.
Phew, faking it can be tiring but I must be good. Fun? What was he thinking of?
Now I remember the downside of sex.
I’m awake. I feel like shit but I’m alive so that’s not too bad, is it? It’s one in the afternoon.
No! Beth should be coming back home at two. Damn it! I’ve got to get out of bed. Don’t look at yourself in the mirror, slut features, just shower and change and try to look healthy.
The light on the phone is flashing and I’m running about.
I put my clothing from last night in the washing machine and make sure everything is neat and tidy. I open the fridge. I should have gone shopping this morning.
Bastard shit!
Right, we’ll go out for dinner tonight. I’ll take Beth to the restaurant she likes with jungle animals. Sorted. Now I’ll check my reflection.
I’m shocked. I look fine. No sign of crap shagging last night. I cleanse and moisturise. Add a bit of pink gloss and I look normal, normal for a mother who had shit sex not too long ago. I check the messages, only one and it’s from my mum.
‘Belle are you there, pick up the phone.’ How many times have I told her it’s an answering machine service, so I don’t hear when a message is being left? ‘Joan popped round and she’s bringing Beth back. I’ll speak to you later.’
